


Too Good to be True

by scandalsavage



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Alfred Pennyworth is not a good man, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Blow Jobs, Breeding, Bruce Wayne Has Issues, Bruce Wayne is a Bad Parent, Bruce adopts Jason for nefarious purposes, Dark Bruce Wayne, Evil Bruce Wayne, Extremely Dubious Consent, Intersex Omegas, Kinda, M/M, Manipulative Relationship, Pedophilia, Pseudo-Incest, Statutory Rape, Sugar Daddy, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-24
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-14 16:01:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29669730
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scandalsavage/pseuds/scandalsavage
Summary: Bruce wishes he was a better man. But the truth is, he’s weak. Weak for the flash of robins egg blue eyes from under inky black curls, wild and untamed. Like everything else about the boy.
Relationships: Jason Todd/Bruce Wayne
Comments: 23
Kudos: 157
Collections: BruJay Week 2021





	Too Good to be True

**Author's Note:**

> Jason is a minor in a shitty position and incapable of informed consent. 
> 
> Bruce is a _slightly_ more self aware Humbert Humbert.

Bruce wishes he was a better man. But the truth is, he’s weak. Weak for the flash of robins egg blue eyes from under inky black curls, wild and untamed. Like everything else about the boy. 

There is no excuse. He knew what he was doing when he drove down to _that_ part of Gotham. Knew what he was doing when he slowed down, eying the men and women vying for the attention of every car. Knew what he was doing when he passed them by, when he spotted the boy leaning against a brick wall next to the alley opening, when he stopped and waved the kid over. He wasn’t lost, like he said, he knew exactly where he was and how to get to the bridge that would take him home. The kid knew too, if the lopsided smirk, almost steady enough to mask the underlying fear, was any indication. He pointed Bruce in the right direction anyway and, with a deep breath, he left. 

Bruce knew _exactly_ what he was doing, three days later, when he found the boy again. Knew that if he went back, he wouldn’t have the strength to leave without sating the perverse desire that grew from the memory of big, bright blue eyes and the devil’s grin on an angelic face. He went anyway. 

The boy looked him up and down, shrewd eyes calculating, and that’s when Bruce knows the boy recognizes him. A pit forms in his stomach. This is what has held him back in the past. Bruce Wayne is Gotham’s favorite son. Everyone knows his face. 

There is a brief moment where the kid weighs his options, casts a glance over his shoulder at the alley where he usually does his work. A flicker of indecision marked only by a brief tug of his teeth at his lip. Then he turns back to Bruce with that smirk, at once too old for his young face and too beautiful to resist.

“Extra 20 if you want privacy.” His voice is a little rough, enough to tell Bruce he’s had other customers this evening, but still youthfully higher pitched. It makes the pit in Bruce’s belly melt into a pool of liquid heat. The boy stalls on the number like he wants to ask for more but doesn’t want to lose the business. There are other boys along the street, afterall.

He doesn’t know Bruce would pay a thousand times that for this. For the curve of his back as he leans over the center console of the car—skinny hips raised to keep his ass in the air—to take Bruce in his mouth like Bruce’s generous size is nothing. The sight of those curls bouncing as the boy moves up and down on Bruce’s cock. That sweet, young milky scent all pups have before puberty that reminds Bruce of better times, from before his parents’ accident when he was still a pup himself. The last time he was happy. 

Guilt wars with bone-deep satisfaction and infatuation when the kid, who never offered a name and was never asked for one, finishes him off with a swipe of his thin wrist across his now cherry-red lips. Bruce feels like he’s going to be sick. He feels like he might lock the doors and keep this boy to himself. 

Instead, he gives the kid everything in his wallet, flushing as those pretty puppy eyes grow comically wide at what is probably only about $500.

He managed to stay away for two weeks. 

He comes back every week for a month after that. 

Then more. Until finally he works up the nerve to ask for what he really wants. 

Jason. His name is Jason. And he’s an omega which wouldn’t have mattered but is definitely icing on the cake. Bruce utters the name like a prayer between sucking a ring of bruises around the boy’s throat like a collar, lapping up as much of that pure, innocent scent he can get. Jason gasps every time Bruce thrusts into him and they’ve been doing this so often that Bruce can tell the difference between the faked noises and the real. Someday they’ll all be real, but for now Bruce will use them as a map to the boy’s pleasure.

He has Jason up against the wall of the sleazy hotel room Jason procured for them so that Bruce would not be recognized. He’s so beautiful with his lips parted, hot breath filling the scant space between them, eyes squeezed shut, and skinny legs wrapped around Bruce’s thick waist. He showered the street grime off before they started and his usual uncontrolled curls hang damp and limp in his face. 

Blue eyes glistening with heat and unshed tears peak up at him and Bruce feels like he’s drowning in them. Like he would give this boy the world and more to keep him close. Feels like this might be the closest to love he’s come since he lost his parents.

“Harder,” Jason breathes, blunt nails digging into the nape of Bruce’s neck and twisting in the short hairs. It’s convincing but Bruce can tell it’s fake. A professional telling him what he wants to hear. 

It almost breaks his heart. He wants Jason to want him too.

So, as much as he would like to obey, Bruce forces himself to do the opposite. Hikes the boy up and closer by the hips to get a better angle (he’s so light it’s like lifting a child, a thought Bruce brutally stomps on), and makes each stroke slow and deep. He wraps his hand around Jason’s little cock and times each twist of his wrist to every thrust into the tight, inviting heat of Jason’s cunt. This time the way Jason clings to him, his moans and whines, are a divine truth that Bruce swallows down like sweet communion wine. This boy is his religion.

With a surprised shout, Jason comes first. And the look of ecstasy that flickers across that beautiful face, combined with the knowledge that he put it there, sends Bruce over the edge soon after.

“Come home with me,” Bruce sighs into Jason’s neck, breathing in that scent, mouthing at the small, undeveloped gland. 

Jason stills in his arms. 

“I’ll give you everything. You’ll have your own room and anything you can imagine. No more streets, no more wondering where your next meal will come from. No more… clients.”

There is a short, pregnant silence where Jason doesn’t move, doesn’t say anything, and Bruce doesn’t breathe.

“Except you, right?” 

His voice is small and the warble in it so slight that Bruce easily convinces himself it’s hopeful, not at all resigned.

Bruce hums and takes Jason’s mouth in a deep, claiming kiss in response.

The smaller body pressed between his and the wall shudders.

“School,” Jason says finally, steadily. “I want to go to school.”

“That can be arranged,” Bruce answers, feeling something unfamiliar flutter delightfully, uncomfortably in his belly. 

Another loaded pause, the air in the dingy room seeming to gain weight.

“Ok then.”

The words are barely past Jason’s lips before Bruce is on them again, pushing his tongue between them to feel the heat and wet of the boy’s mouth. 

A mouth he needs on him immediately.

This is a bad idea. Bruce knows it as he steps away from the wall, as he sits on the bed and spreads his legs wide. He knows it as he watches Jason’s cute little throat, marked with proof of Bruce’s devotion in the mottled purple bruises that ring it, bobs with a gulp. Knows he is an evil man when Jason sinks to his knees between Bruce’s thighs, looks up at Bruce through absurdly thick, long eyelashes and opens his mouth.

This won’t end well. Bruce is damned and he’s too weak to resist.

Jason has his own gravity and Bruce is stuck in his orbit until the pull burns him up.

————————————————

Bruce adopts Jason. It makes Jason feel a little extra weird about the situation, a little gross and uneasy. Especially when Bruce soon starts calling him ‘son’ even when they’re fucking. 

But Bruce also keeps his promise. Jason has his own huge room, even if he doesn’t stay in there often. All of his clothes are tailored and cost more than Gotham rent. He has every video game console known to man and Bruce buys him every book he asks for even if it’s already in the obscene and obscenely cool library, just so he can have his own copy. Jason’s never had a computer before, nor a big flatscreen TV like the one in his room.

It was disappointing when Bruce told him he couldn’t go to an actual, physical school and Jason had refused to let Bruce touch him for days after the argument, certain that the alpha would kick him out any minute. The fear of having to go back to his little corner of his little alley, back to threadbare clothes and not knowing when his next meal was, back to grabbing showers only when his clients splurged on hotels… it whittles away Jason’s resolve and he crawls into Bruce’s lap after dinner to apologize and reassert his usefulness. 

The private tutors are not so bad, really. Jason likes the way they tell him he’s clever and the rigorous pace they set for him when they realize it. Certainly not worth losing even the steady meals and warm bed, let alone any of the other luxuries he gets in Bruce’s… care. 

And so what if he has to sleep with Bruce? Bruce looks at Jason like he hung all the stars in the sky, touches him like he’s something precious, something to be worshipped and revered. It’s not so bad. It could be— _has been_ —much, much worse. 

For a while after Jason arrived, he didn’t know if the butler was privy to the arrangement. He didn’t see how he couldn’t be, Bruce wasn’t exactly shy or timid and they’d fucked their way through most the house in the first week. But Jason tried to act like nothing sketchy was happening between them, just in case. Until he walks into Bruce’s bedroom, looking for his biochem book and finds Alfred in the middle of attaching restraints to the giant bed. The old beta smiles and says, “Ah, master Jason. I was just about to call for you.” Then waives at the restraints and explains that “Master Bruce” has made a “request”. Alfred waits patiently while Jason strips with shaky fingers, and gently locks Jason’s wrists and ankles into the cuffs so that he’s spread-eagle. 

Despite being done kindly, it had made Jason feel small. Inferior. Like he wasn’t really a person. Just a thing a rich man used to amuse himself. A tiny piece of him had held out the hope that if someone else had known, especially kindly old Alfred who snuck him extra cookies, they would have… maybe not protected him but at least wouldn’t have approved. 

It’s probably for the best though. Because even if things were awkward in the beginning, once Jason gets the lay of the land, it’s actually... good. For a couple years, it’s almost perfect. Bruce actually cares about Jason’s comfort and pleasure and it’s been a long time since Jason had to fake anything. And if he cringes when Bruce whispers ‘my beautiful son’ in his ear well, it’s a really small price to pay in the long run. 

Then Jason has his first heat. He had prayed that the changes he was going through didn’t mean what he thought. Bruce was already too possessive and… attached. But one day, Alfred presents him with a packet of birth control tablets and a thick leather collar, pointedly flares his nostrils and tells Jason they’re for protection. 

And it turns out Jason _really_ needs it. Even before, Bruce regularly nipped at him like all the alpha wants in the world is to sink his teeth in. A lot about his first heat is a blur (distantly he thinks that he should be concerned about how comfortable and safe he felt with Bruce, in a den that isn’t _really_ his own) but the leather of the collar is gnawed and scratched, the edges fraying already. Jason is immensely grateful for Alfred’s foresight. The last thing he needs is a mating bite from the man who is legally his father.

More enthusiastic use of teeth is hardly the only concerning new development since Jason’s first heat marked his official “coming of age”. Bruce is even more clingy than usual and he’s become even more insatiable and much less interested in what little decorum they’d initially maintained around the mansion. Where Bruce used to press him back against a wall or pull Jason onto his lap, he now only seems interested in bending Jason over the nearest short enough surface. 

On the street, Jason knew plenty of alphas. He doesn’t remember any of them being this bad. 

After his second heat, he has to wear the collar at all times. There was a close call after breakfast one day, where Jason barely got his hand wedged between Bruce’s teeth in time. Better to be safe than… 

Bruce isn’t quite as insistent at public events, but he still locks his gaze on Jason and hardly pays attention to anything else. He watches and makes note of anyone who shows Jason any kind of interest. 

Everything is teetering on the edge of a cliff. Jason feels like his world is petrified, holding its breath while it waits for the drop. 

When his third heat nears, Jason actually thinks about running away. He covertly bought a heavy-duty collar with metal lining to replace the leather one that definitely won’t make it through another heat. But still. He thought omegas were supposed to be the sex-starved, horny fiends during heat, not alphas. Even at the peaks, Jason has trouble meeting Bruce’s sheer, encompassing need. 

Vaguely, Jason wonders if it’s because of his… lack of experience. Because he’s only been through this a couple times and he’s still really young. Most omegas his age aren’t sharing heats with alphas, even if they are technically of age. 

The thought of leaving is quickly dismissed. For the same reason Jason has never left before or ever mentioned to anyone that Bruce is anything other than a doting, protective, father. The alternatives are untenable. 

In retrospect, maybe he should have. Maybe he should have run. Holed up in some omega shelter where he’d be safe as possible, all things considered. But even if he could find one that had space available, surely Bruce would find a way to get rid of him after denying him access for an entire heat.

And how does a rich man get rid of a kid he adopted to fuck, anyway? There’s only one option that comes to mind and Jason has come too far, has something going for him for once in his life, to end up just another dead, homeless kid who ended up od’d in Crime Alley despite all Gotham’s favorite son tried to do for him. 

So he stays. He stays and wakes the first proper day of his heat the way he’s gotten used to, with Bruce’s nose and lips skimming along Jason’s jaw, fingers already inside him, finding that spot that makes Jason’s toes curl.

He rolls his hips into Bruce’s hand with a whine, asking for more. The alpha chuckles and adds a third finger as he steals Jason’s lips for a sloppy, passionate kiss. 

It’s not so bad, Jason thinks, sighing audibly. Bruce tastes like minty toothpaste and smells like coffee and scotch. It’s become comforting and familiar over the years (when not tinged with obsession) and it overwhelms everything when Jason is in heat. 

Bruce gives a little, possessive growl and flips Jason onto his belly. The way Jason rolls his eyes is warm and fond and he obligingly lifts his hips, keeping his face pressed into the pillow, so that Bruce can spear him on his cock. 

It’s long and thick inside him, the stretch deliciously filling. Jason moans, for real, and bucks back, trying to make Bruce move. 

“Easy, sweetheart,” Bruce hums, smoothing a hand down Jason’s backside. Jason rolls his eyes again at how sappy Bruce gets during his heats even if it makes his stomach flip in pleasant ways. “Don’t worry, I’m going to breed you right this time. My perfect boy, you’ll give me such perfect pups.”

 _That_ jolts Jason out of the pleasurably warm, heat-drunk haze that started settling over him. 

There’s a lot of wrong in those words. The fact that Bruce fully embraced the… father/son dynamic with _Jason_ alone would preclude Jason from ever considering Bruce as a sire for his children. 

Not to mention… Jason is still technically a pup himself. His life with Bruce is a means to an end—safety, security, college, getting out of Gotham—not _endgame_.

Panic sets in for a brief moment, before reason follows. Alfred gave him birth control. Bruce is just being a typical alpha. Always thinking with their knots. Biting and breeding are like, their things.

Frankly, the fact that it took until his third heat for Bruce to mention breeding him is the weirdest part. 

So Jason plays along. Moans and begs for Bruce’s knot. Begs the alpha to go deeper, to come inside him and keep him filled. At some point, Jason thinks he sees the appeal of this kind of dirty talk. He doesn’t ever want pups but saying these things are kinda hot and Bruce’s promises to keep him naked and pregnant for the rest of his life make something shameful in Jason squirm with delight.

Of course, that’s when it all crashes down. 

Bruce’s quickly swelling knot catches at Jason’s cunt, making him cry out and twist his hands harder into the sheets to stay grounded as it puts pressure on all of Jason’s most sensitive nerves.

“Perfect omega,” Bruce grunts, trying again to bury his teeth in Jason’s scent gland and getting only leather and metal. “Perfect pups. We’ll be a perfect family. So happy, you’ll see. You’ll be so glad I had Alfred swap out your pills.”

The words burrow into Jason’s brain as Bruce forces his knot past the tightening clench of Jason’s entrance. It’s too late to do anything but scream in pleasure-pain as the head forces its way past Jason’s cervix and his body gets what it’s been craving. Jason’s increased temperature starts to level as Bruce spills directly into his womb.

He won’t have long before the heat peaks again and his temperature rises until it’s so unbearable he’ll start begging Bruce to help, even if Jason would rather not. He wonders if that’s normal or if it’s an effect of Bruce isolating him, keeping Jason dependent on him.

A sob escapes past his lips as Bruce layers his body over Jason’s protectively, placing little kisses over the span of Jason’s shoulders.

“You-you didn’t really, right?” Jason pleads. It’s weak and defeated, even to his own ears. He knows the truth, even if he can’t help but hope. “Please… please tell me you didn’t…”

Bruce nuzzles against the curls at the back of Jason’s head. Let’s a low rumble, deep in his rest that Jason feels vibrate through his whole body. It’s supposed to be soothing. 

It isn’t.

One of Bruce’s arms winds around Jason’s waist so a big palm can pet over his belly. Over his womb.

“You’ll be so beautiful, round with a litter of our pups, another at your breast. Radiant. The jewel of our perfect, growing family.”

“N-no, you can’t,” Jason gasps, trying to calm down enough to breathe even as he starts hyperventilating. “ _We_ can’t. You-you’re legally my _father_. We… we _can’t_.”

_It’ll ruin everything. All that he’s sacrificed to come this far, for nothing._

“We’ll figure it out, don’t worry. No one will know their mine, but they _will_ be. That’s what is important. That you’re _all mine_.”

Silence falls. Jason lies there quietly weeping into the pillow. He can’t see a way out of this. Not that that will stop him from trying. He’ll have to leave now, for sure. If Bruce has knocked him up… there must be _somewhere_ he can terminate without an alpha present. At least the collar has protected him from any claiming marks.

Bruce will hunt him. Jason knows that like he knows the way Bruce’s knot is coming down even though his cock is getting hard means that Jason’s temperature is on the rise.The man is scarily possessive. 

It won’t be long before another round. Bruce slides free from Jason’s soaking cunt and there’s a moment where the alpha isn’t touching him. Jason wants to flee, tries to make his muscles obey his desires. But they’re still in the boneless bliss of being knotted during heat.

Bruce rolls him onto his back and sticks his tongue down Jason’s throat before pulling back. 

One big hand cups Jason’s face and Bruce presses a gentle, chaste kiss to Jason’s forehead.

Then he disappears from view. 

Jason can feel those hands caressing up his still trembling legs. Feels Bruce lean over him. 

For a heartbeat, Jason thinks Bruce is going to eat him out and he almost sighs at the thought. 

A split second before the brush of teeth high on the inside of his thigh near his groin, the full meaning of Bruce’s last words sink in. 

_That’s what is important. That you’re all mine._

He doesn’t even get the chance to shout “no”. Bruce’s teeth sink into the hypersensitive skin over Jason’s femoral gland and work deep enough to break through. Deep enough to scar.

There are four major scent glands—two carotid glands, two femoral glands—and two minor scent glands, one at each wrist. Ninety-nine percent of mating claims are made at the neck. The throat is a source of primal lust for alpha’s. An omega shows it in submission, and the mark is clearly visible for all to see.

But a bite to any of the major glands is an official claim. Anyone who sees it will know the omega is spoken for. Like potential mates.

Or a doctor who might have otherwise helped him terminate. 

Suddenly, Bruce’s lips are on his again, Bruce’s hard cock heavy against the fresh bite, and heat surges under Jason’s skin. The taste and smell of Bruce, of his alpha, overwhelms him.

The last thought Jason has before the next wave pulls him under, is that he should have known. He should have known it was too good to be true. He should have been able to see the obvious. Comfort instead of candy. A manor instead of a van. 

This was always nothing more than a fancy cage.

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know if I missed any tags. Comments and kudos are loved and appreciated. 
> 
> [My Tumblr](https://scandalsavagefanfic.tumblr.com/)


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